


Mirrors

by xantissa



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:23:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles, rating PG-13 attempting to show the differences and similarities in Fai's relationship with Ashura and then Kurogane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Care

**Author's Note:**

> I am starting to post my older stories. This was written around year 2007

Care  
Little Fai/Ashura

 

"It’s okay, Fai, shhh,” murmurs the king as he holds the shivering child close to his chest, not caring that his expensive robes will be dirtied. 

The blond child just presses closer, cheeks damp with tears and sweat.

“It’s okay. It’s only magical backlash. Your body is too small to deal with it yet. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Ashura-oh whispers softly, still patiently stroking the boy’s head.

The boy only presses closer, shivering until sleep claims him. He whispers something against the smooth skin on the raven haired king’s neck, but the king doesn’t hear the child.

 

TBC


	2. Disappointment

Disappointment

 

Ashura-oh stares, for the first time in his life speechless. Surprise and sadness are waging war in his eyes as he stares at the young man in front of him. Tall, almost as tall as the king himself. Huge blue eyes are still as vulnerable as they were yesterday, the hair soft and messy, curling in unruly strands around the young man’s face.

“Fai.” He whispers brokenly. Yesterday he held the sick, ten year old child in his arms, tiny and weak like a newborn kitten. Now there’s a man in his twenties standing before him with anxious eyes.

“Why?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer.

The man looks down, unsure, anxious and utterly vulnerable. “I didn’t want to be a disappointment again.”

Ashura-oh closes his eyes. The love in his heart mixing with the pain he always feels while looking at the child promised to him so long ago. He does the only thing he can. It’s already too late. Fai had cast away his childhood simply because of what the king said. He pulls the mage into his arms and hugs him tightly, the larger but still painfully thin frame feeling so utterly wrong.

“You are not. You were never a disappointment, Fai. Never.”


	3. Worry

The young mage enters the main hall with a smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. The raven haired king watches him silently from the throne, his fingers resting lightly on the carved wood. His emotions masked by the impenetrable ice of his expression.

“I did it. I killed the monster.” Fai announces, arms flailing wildly, not caring of the dark, copper stains on his white coat. Blood, Ashura-oh thinks.

The king raises abruptly, his expensive robes rustling from the sudden movement. The tall, powerful figure descends the three steps that separate him from his mage. Fai never stops talking, relating the tale with expansive hand gestures and exaggerated sound effects.

The dark stain is the only thing the king sees, though. It’s small, not more that a paper cut would produce. But Ashura-oh can smell more. Much more.

‘Did you think I wouldn’t notice? That you could hide it from me?’ He thinks as he stops in front of his mage. And his mask must be slipping, because the young blond is now watching him warily, his words becoming quieter suddenly.

The slap echoes around the audience hall like an explosion. Everyone stills, watching wide eyed as the mage presses one pale hand to his rapidly darkening cheek.

“Arhura-oh...” He whispers pleadingly, his eyes wide and vulnerable, scared.

The king’s face is a frozen mask, perfect and cold.

“You could have died; you risked your life for such a trivial matter.” The anger felt like bloodlust, turning his vision red. The king’s face freezes even more in an effort to keep the rage inside.

“But...” Fai stammers, surprised, shocked at his king's reaction. “The monster was killing villagers! It needed to be stopped!”

“There are soldiers.” Ashura-oh states coldly.

“Many would have died!” Fai protest. He’s not from Ceres, but he loves this world and its people with his whole heart.

The king narrows his eyes and says, so quiet that only Fai can hear him.

“I don’t care about them.” He doesn’t need to say more. Fai’s lips part and his eyes widen even more, still so young and painfully vulnerable.

The king turns away sharply; his long hair arching in the air and almost slapping Fai in the face again. The blond mage stares at the retreating king, heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears.


	4. Love

Fai presses his lips to the king’s in a hasty, dry kiss. He’s nervous, scared and more than a little lost.

The king watches his wide, blue eyes, the pale, perfect skin flush and the thin hands flutter at his sides. The chamber is dark, the only light coming from the fireplace.

The mage is scared, embarrassed but more than determined to see this through. A beautiful young man. Ashura-oh still remembers the bitter, scared and lost child in filthy rags staring at him from among of a sea of decaying corpses. He sees the unspoken question, the innocent invitation in Fai’s eyes.

He reaches for the blonds face and slowly leans closer, pressing his lips to the smooth forehead in a gentle, lingering kiss. He pulls the robe back around Fai’s shoulders and then sits back.

The mage’s eyes are big, round, swimming with emotions. He’s pale now, the flush abruptly gone from his cheeks. The rejection destroying some of the innocence inside him.

Ashura-oh sits on his bed, quiet and still as he watches Fai leave his bedroom.

I love you Fai, he thinks with the same mix of pain and gentleness he feels every time he looks at the blond mage.


	5. Choices

Ashura-oh watches his mage flirt, watches him watch the young Count with interested eyes. His face is still and cold, no emotions seeping out.

He watches the Count flirt, seduce the mage. Watches as Fai follows the Count willingly out of the ballroom, cheeks flushed and eyes burning with something Ashura-oh has only seen once, directed at him.

He catches the look Fai throws him before leaving

Are you watching? The blue eyes seem to ask.

Ashura-oh lifts his goblet with extra care, making sure his fingers don’t snap the delicate crystal. He wonders about choices and the price that one has to pay for his wishes.

People see him as strong, as powerful. But he’s not. He knows that after the party he’ll go to one of his concubines. The one that’s tall and thin, with messy blond hair, blue eyes and barely any curves on her body.


	6. Rage

The raven haired king stands on the spacious balcony of his private chambers and watches the executioner raise the whip again in the main plaza. There’s a man kneeling in the center of it, his back a mess of cuts already. Stripped of title and lands, he pays the price for crossing the line.

The door to his chambers are thrown open with considerably more force than a person Fai’s size should be capable of and Ashura-oh is almost amused at the expressions on his guard's faces. Fai can do whatever he pleases, and everyone in the palace knows it.

“Ashura-oh!” Cries the dishelmed mage, and the king wonders absentmindedly just who let the blond know what was going on at the palace. Well, it wasn’t like Ashura-oh didn’t expect it at some level. He just wished they would be over with the punishment before the mage arrived. “What are you doing?! Why?!” the mage cries out distraught.

Ashura-oh keeps his eyes locked on the plaza as his hand shoot’s out and catches the surprised blonde’s wrist. He pulls that hand towards himself and raises it until the wide, fur trimmed sleeve falls away revealing the dark, vivid, purple bruises.

He looks at the suddenly very still Fai and raises his fingers to the blonde’s face. His fingertips brush the cool skin breaking the masking spell and revealing the black eye.

Fai is utterly still, like a small animal staring in the eyes of a dangerous predator.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Ashura-oh asks almost gently, his hand still tightly closed around Fai’s thin wrist.

The blond licks his dry lips, but says nothing.

He doesn’t understand, the king thinks bitterly, he still doesn’t understand that I love him.

“I will kill him for marking you.” He looks into the wide, blue eyes. “You will only ever carry my mark.” He thinks of the tattoo, a bond that will last between them for all eternity. “No one will ever mark you.”

Fai’s cheeks are wet with tears and his eyes are no longer as wide or as innocent as they used to be. “Please, let him live.”

The blond curls his fingers in the luxuriously embroiled robes and he presses his face into the king’s neck, like he used to do when he was still small. His warm breath licking the king's neck in moist puffs.

Ashura-oh closes his eyes and lets his arms come around the still too thin figure. He whistles sharply and a magical bird, a white dove, appears in front of him. Like a light arrow it shots down towards the plaza and the prisoner.

The king holds the shivering mage and thinks that he would give him anything, everything he asked for.

But the mage never asked for anything, never wanted anything but what Ashura could not give without hurting Fai even more.

How can I pay for something I haven’t even done yet? The king thinks sadly, the pain and love in his heart no longer two separate emotions.


	7. Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> now it's Kurogane/Fai side of things.

He watches the damn mage flirt, watches the casual smiles, the small touches, and the predatory look in the young man’s eyes.

The alcohol slides smoothly down his throat; his eyes following the idiot mage as he smiles seductively and stands to leave the room. 

He’s careful not to break the glass he’s holding as the blond looks at him, and his only visible, quicksilver eye seems to ask: do you see this?

He stands up.

It’s a matter of seconds to catch up with the pair, one push and the young man is slammed into the wall with a satisfying thump. He looks up, ready to fight and then catches sight of the huge, looming form of the black Ninja and reconsiders.

Kurogane snorts. Really, no one ever bothers to stand up to him anymore.

The young man scrambles away, but Kurogane only watches the tall blonde, cursing the eye-patch for what it represents and what it hides.

“That was uncalled for, Kurogane.” His full name on those pale lips sounds so wrong, but the ninja won’t be distracted.

“Idiot mage.” He hisses angrily.

“It’s not your business.” The blond states calmly, coldly, with an unfamiliar edge of malice to his voice. Ever since he was turned into a Vampire, he changed. Or maybe only the masks fell away.

“I don’t care who you sleep with” The Ninja growls. “I don’t care as long as it’s something you want. Be it for comfort, loneliness or simple pleasure. But don’t expect me to just sit and watch you hurt yourself out of some kind misguided guilt.”

With that he walks away, angry and disgusted, not seeing the wide eyed look and the pale face of the mage staring at him with shock.


	8. Rejection

The room is dark and still; the air is moist and filled with the scent of sakura blossoms. Even though he no longer has his arm, it still hurts, driving him insane, making it impossible to sleep.

Kurogane watches the dark shape in the corner of his room watch him, just like it did for hours already.

“Are you going to do something, or just stare at me till the morning?” He asks finally, the pain robbing him of patience.

The blond man steps out from the shadows, his robe thin and loosely tied showing just the hints of the whipcord body underneath. His hair is long and loose over his shoulders, softening the endlessly shadowed face.

Kurogane watches him approach the bed, moves slow and seductive. There’s something sensual in the silence between them, something more than usual.

Fai’s hands are still, thin, so very fragile looking, at his sides. 

“No.” He says in a clear, strong voice that stops the mage in his tracks. The thin hands flutter, and then close into fists. A new tension enters the thin frame and Kurogane internally curses the idiot mage and his ability to misinterpret something as simple as this.

He gets up, the damn arm, that’s no longer there damn it, hurting like a bitch and crosses over to the still mage. The eye-patch is dark like a sin on his face, obscuring so much of his expression and yet giving so much away. This new, imperfect Fai tries less to hide what he feels, shows more of himself, thinking the eye-patch will hide it for him.

Kurogane tangles his fingers into the soft, blond locks and makes Fai look him in the eye, waiting patiently till Fai stops avoiding eye contact.

“It was my choice. And I would do it all over again if I had to. There’s no need to pay me back.” He states firmly, and then leans down to kiss the pale lips that seem to be permanently turned down now.

It’s barely a real kiss, just a brush of lips, barely a hint of tongue to catch the taste, and then he pushes the blond out of his room.

“Idiot mage.” He mutters wearily setting himself back into bed.


	9. Marks

Kurogane watches the Vampire watch the sunset. He’s still. So utterly, deathly still it makes the Ninja feel uneasy. The last rays of sunlight light up the blond hair, making Fai look gentle and fragile on the background of the massive window. But there was nothing gentle about the mage for a while now.

Kurogane misses it.

The darkness falls and Fai keeps standing in front of the window. Kurogane knows that his Vampire sight enables him to see in the dark. Just like he knows that Fai is no longer watching the view but his own reflection in the dark glass.

Kurogane doesn’t say a word. He was never one for words, and he has long since learned that Fai never discloses more than absolutely necessary, and rarely anything personal.

“Have you noticed?” Fai asks, not looking away from the dark glass. “How my skin never bruises? There are no marks on my body, no bruises, no scars.”

The Ninja stays quiet for a long time sensing that Fai isn’t really talking to him at the moment.

“Does it bother you?” He asks finally, when Fai seems to have lost the track of his thought.

The mage is perfectly still.

“He said I would never be marked by any other man but him.”

Kurogane thinks about the tattoo the witch took, about the mage’s broken wish and he doesn’t have to ask who the ‘he’ is. There’s only ever one person on Fai’s mind. He thinks of the changes being a vampire has brought on Fai’s body.

“Idiot.” He says gently, coming close to the mage and standing directly behind him. “It’s not about the marks your body carries.” He places the artificial arm against the glass with an odd, muffled thunk no living flesh is capable of. “It’s about the marks you leave on other people’s souls.”

He pulls back, the mechanical fingers skimming gently over the dark cloth of Fai’s eye-patch.

Both of them pretend not to see the dampness of the blond mans cheeks.


	10. Reflection

Kurogane watched the slim back, the longish blond hair swaying gently in the breeze and didn’t move. The blood and gore all around the mage didn’t really bother him much. In his times as a Ninja, he had seen a lot of death.

But there was something disturbing about the way Fai just stood there, motionlessly, his nails changed into long and sharp blades, lazily dripping blood.

Blood.

It was everywhere. On the grass, on the surrounding trees, even on the normally pristine coat. It spattered the white fur in almost artistic patterns. Kurogane watched the still mage carefully, a part of him that was purely a creature of strength, finding it oddly attractive, while the other, more sane one, worried about the kids.

The princess was still unconscious, which was for the better, and the kid was pale and staring, his own injuries looking more than horrible. 

Just a few minutes ago, they were hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned, for once being attacked by an enemy that knew what strategy was. Kurogane was a fierce warrior, a dangerous one, but even he couldn’t defeat an army.

The blond shifted, his coat, now heavy with blood, flapped gently around his ankles and his hair fell over the garishly colorful eye-patch. His single visible eye was now half closed, blue color darkening into shadowed darkness. There was an almost gentle, wistful expression on his face.

He raised his hand watching the elongated nails and the blood that dripped from them sluggishly. The countless bodies around him didn’t really seem to bother him. Kurogane watched as the mage gingerly licked, with the tip of his pale tongue, at the blood.

“Fai-san.” Whispered Syaoran, staring shell shocked at the display of cruelty before him. 

A whole army decimated within minutes. Ruthlessly, efficiently... and not without pleasure.

Kurogane raised his hand to stop the kid. 

He saw the odd half smile on Fai’s face as the blond surveyed the carnage, the bloodied tip of his finger still at his lips.

“No.” Kurogane said calmly. “Not Fai.”

The black Ninja stood up from the ground, the fever making him dizzy.

He watched the blonde man open his eyes and watch him in return, eyes half lidded and holding so many secrets Kurogane could not even start to understand. The mage smiled, a tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth.

“Ashura-oh.” Kurogane said calmly, his voice as steady as his hand on Souhi.

A gasp from the kid, and a small inclination of the blond head was the only reaction he got. Kurogane watched the different, more sensual form. Seen the different kind of stillness before, the lack of typical jittering that defined the mage.

Unlike the usual Fai, this one didn’t lie with smiles or words. His single eye was steady, soft and almost dreamy, gleaming with a kind of power the idiot mage simply wasn’t capable of.

“Do you really think I would have let him die in a place like this?” The voice was gentle, melodic, and his face almost soft as he looked at the hundreds of corpses of soldiers torn apart with viciousness and cruelty the worst monsters in Nihon weren’t capable of.

“Leave him alone, damn king. He’s suffered enough because of you.” Growled the Ninja, never once looking away from the terrifyingly gentle face.

The blond only smiled that enigmatic smile, but his eye was darker now. Sad somehow.

“I wanted to free him from his curse, but it seems I have become it instead.”

Kurogane watched as the single visible eye rolled back and the thin frame crumpled to the ground with a soft sigh.

Damn the idiot mage, and his inability to let go.


	11. Hunger

The split-second flash of the long sword was the only warning that Kurogane was awake. The ninja stilled with the edge of his blade pressed into the vulnerable flesh under Fai’s chin.

The blond sat astride him, the odd, girly nightclothes worn in this odd world making him look thin and fragile and ethereal.

Kurogane was silent, his arm steady and the blade biting into the unprotected flesh in warning.

“What are you doing here, Ashura-oh?” Kurogane could see the difference in the damn mage clear as day. That creepily gentle presence inside of the idiot mage was like sand in his food, gritting along his every senses. 

The blond smiled gently, not the disgustingly fake, cheerful grin from before, but a mild, gentle one, a little melancholy twist of his lips. There was a presence to this Fai that the Ninja could never mistake.

“It seems I can’t fool you.” 

Kurogane thought about the picture they must make, so still in this darkened room, with him on his back, the blond straddling him in only the ridiculous night clothes, Souhi catching the faint moonlight and glinting sharply, pressed to the naked throat. And Fai, his hair loose, falling over his shoulders and face, half covering the unusually subdued eye patch, his sole golden eye staring at him with unknown purpose.

“You are not him,” said the Ninja simply. There was nothing more, nothing less to it. Just this.

The mage nodded.

“And yet, you are the only one to see the difference.” The blond shifted, pressing into Kurogane’s groin a little, forcing the Ninja to grit his teeth. One of the mage’s hands lifted up, the nails half transformed into blades. The tips of that wicked claw came to rest just under his eyelids. “There’s not much that can escape those eyes of yours, is there?” The king in the mage’s body murmured staring straight at Kurogane.

“What are you doing here?” Repeated Kurogane, uncomfortable and frustrated with their position, more than aware of the damage those claws could do.

The king smiled again, but it was pained this time. Pained and loving, a cruel twist of emotion reserved for only one person.

“That child is hungry. Yet he would rather starve himself half to death than ask for what he wants.”

Kurogane watched the way the elongated canines showed from between the pale lips and considered the tactical advantage now offered to him.

“Well, it seems there’s at least one thing that we agree on.” He said finally and shifted the sword so that it wasn’t pressed directly into Fai’s neck, but rested along their bodies. 

Ashura-oh smiled again. 

Kurogane would rather see Fai’s fake smiles any day than this melancholic, cruel grin on the mage’s face.

“Yes.”

Kurogane didn’t need a prompt, just tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck even as the blond leaned closer and pressed his cold nose into his sleep warmed skin. 

He didn’t flinch when the wickedly sharp canines pierced his neck.

He didn’t make a sound when he felt the first pull, the way the blond seemed glued to the wound, noisily sucking.

He kept his eyes open, fixed on the cracked ceiling, and his hand firmly clutched on Souhi as the Vampire drank his fill, swallowing noisily, probably for the first time since the change. The lithe body was even lighter than he expected, stretched like a quivering blanket on his chest. The mage was shivering violently, his clawed hands tearing deep gashes in the wooden floor, trying to satiate a hunger that could not be satisfied. 

The end


End file.
